9. The blind lead not..

“A single whisper can calm the storm, but a single breathless moan can damage the shores.”

Be wary as you gaze into the madness of your own enticing soul.. be careful more of what you feed, than where you tread..


They are all the same, little lamb. There is no change, no glorious revelation to curb the silver tongues possessed. There is nothing.. Calm yourself, less you wish to be wrapped in the shivering dissolution of a tattered being. Again..

It is a subtle thing by most, and by others, it is chaos personified into a darkness to rival that hands of time. For more, still, it is something merely tolerated. Never truly being enjoyed, yet it warps the mindset into a fantasy of something [dick-tatively] narrated. A delicate circle of pleasure, coaxed by lies and the offsetting sweetness when salt lines a picture perfect corruption.

Is he aware? Is he present when the whispers of shadows twist their fingers like a vise to steal the very sanity of a creature? Dare…dare he truly to be so foolish, as to fall into the foolishness of her mirroring eyes as they sift through the drudgery. Finding the blessings beneath the Earth as if they were something to be coveted. Holy. Sacred. A thing kept safely locked behind the glass of her very soul, as each image tests the solidity of its holding.

Is she so blasphemous, as to think that her screams into the corners of an aching foundation could be a matching peace? That the silken caress of heated bliss could compare? To which…to what…to whom…she does dare. She dares to light a fire in her core, and watch it seer the very flesh from the madness that threatens her very life. She dares to tangle her treacherous limbs amidst a cover of confidence, and dares to bite in sensual creation of painful glory that very emphasis toward what breaks her heart…

The blind lead not…

For the blind are not blind by design, but by choice…



5 thoughts on “9. The blind lead not..

    1. Lovelace; be still the rhythm left unchecked.. It is a favorite of mine, rivaled only by “Going beyond the Seas”.

      You could have no way, so phrasing something so minor as “if only you knew” seems less than. However, it stands true.. I had to wipe away a trail of sudden delight in reading this.

      You, Dear Sir, write as graciously (you know).


      1. From a distance, perhaps, she may have been known,
        but [grace] still, Dear, I would gently bestow,
        for the gun may command.. the sword once did too..
        though some women know more of those [bearing], like you.

        Some watched those men, and their eyes filled with fire;
        laced by their shadows,
        delight; something dire.

        Some have never quite sailed.. though a sunset was born,
        from near, Dear, the clouds as they weathered a storm..
        ‘if only you knew’, were soft words from afar and I dare say you know them; taste, laced that [star]

        Still, love doth command and some pains are far different..
        your insight is taken, and turned over; drifted..
        something light in the smile that meets with a bite,
        when that distance is gifted and honor sees light.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Were there such a Warrior, with the presence of mind to make such a claim, I would consider it an honor to be as such and learn of his possession.

        It needs no words, but you are truly welcome, and there is a sadness beneath.. in that would be so rare.


      3. I fear many a thing, but to have my eyes open, is a fear that has haunted me in the depths of cavernous places unseen. A fear that is welcomed.

        You have been written to, perhaps, in many fashions yet to be revealed. How shall I, otherwise, write to you so that I may see the woven truths of the Story-teller?


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